


love feels like loneliness sometimes

by borrowedthemoonlite



Category: Victorious (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hidden Moments, The Blonde Squad, andre's horrible girl, car rain and fire, opposite date, post breakup, post-twc, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24791425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedthemoonlite/pseuds/borrowedthemoonlite
Summary: somehow, even after the breakup, they still find their way to each other.  and there’s so much she wants to say, but instead, she lets the silence do the talking.
Relationships: Beck Oliver/Jade West
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	love feels like loneliness sometimes

It’s far too late for Jade to be awake and she knows it. But unfortunately, ‘too late’ has become too familiar to her recently. It’s not like she couldn’t sleep if she tried, it’s that she doesn’t want to. She’s not sure if she doesn’t want to try or if she doesn’t want to sleep, but she does know that she simply does not want to.

At least this time she has an excuse though. If anyone asks about the dark circles under her eyes, not that they will, or ever do, she can tell them that the earthquake fucked her up badly, that she was still shaken up from it. Of course, it’s a lie, but it’ll do for now.

She stares out her window, focusing on the full moon, shining in all its glory. She should really get some curtains for her room, they’d probably help her sleep better, but for now, it’s just her, the moon, and the silence that comes with being lonely.

And then she gets a text from one Beck Oliver.

_‘hey, are u awake?’_

She considers ignoring it completely, but hell- there’s nothing better for her to do and there’s nothing like an impulsive decision made past midnight. So she settles for replying with:

_‘No.’_

It’s slightly cruel, but that's what she's know for, and if she's being honest, she’s still mad at him, even if it is just a little.

 _‘i can’t fall asleep’_ he replies, not missing a beat. By now, Beck’s used to her sarcastic replies that it doesn’t faze him, but she wishes that he wasn’t.

_‘That makes two of us.’_

_‘should i call?’_

They have a system for when the two of them can’t fall asleep. Or rather, they _had_ a system… He would call her and they’d stay on the phone, talking to each other until they got tired. But sometimes she’d worry that she’d wake up her brother, the wall between their rooms is thin and Julian’s been a light sleeper lately. So instead, they’d meet up and talk in person. She always liked when they’d sit on her rooftop, sipping at cups of shitty decaf, talking about nothing in particular until her eyes started drifting shut. At that point, he’d help her back into her room, give her the sweatshirt he was wearing, kiss her goodnight, and head home. Other times she’d go to the RV and they’d put on an old record, lying in comfortable silence until the noise in her head quieted down enough and she’d mellowed out into a sleeping mood. Sometimes, they’d go for a walk, finding their way to an old park they used to play at when they were still in elementary school. Although, sometimes the park was a little too quiet for them and they’d go for a midnight drive, flying down the streets as the world passed them by, the noise barely passing their ears.

Luckily for her, well actually, rather unluckily, she’s pretty sure she’s going to end up waking up her brother if Beck calls. So instead, she texts back:

_‘No, I’ll come find you instead.’_

And like she normally does, she pulls on an old sweatshirt and slips out the window, hoping to god that her mom doesn’t hear her starting the car.

Jade parks the car at the end of the street, she knows from experience that the Olivers _do_ notice when she pulls up at half-past three, so it’s better safe than sorry. She doesn’t bother knocking on the RV door anymore, it’s been years since she’s had to. She still has her key to it somewhere in her room, but at this point, Beck knows to leave the door unlocked for her.

When she enters she hears the sink running and sees the light leaking through underneath the bathroom door.

“Hey,” she calls out, announcing her arrival so he knows she’s there.

“Hey,” he calls right back. He stops running the sink, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t leave the bathroom.

But she’s been here enough times to not feel awkward, so instead, she sits on the floor and pulls out the crate of records that sits under the side table, rummaging through the options.

“Feel free to pick out a record,” he says, once again, through the door. Maybe he knows that she’s waiting. Maybe he knows he’s spending forever in there.

“Already on it.” She shoots back and for a moment it feels like nothing’s changed. But it has. Less than 72 hours ago, they had broken up. Changed statuses on The Slap and everything, the true concrete marks of a finished relationship. And yet, here she is, sitting in the RV, and it feels like her heart is left on the other side of the door.

And sure, maybe she shouldn’t have come. She probably should’ve ignored his text altogether. But something about being here tonight feels right, feels _good_ even, so who cares?

She pulls out a record and places it on the player. He’s not out yet, but she figures it won’t matter too much anyway.

In one of the drawers of his dresser, hastily left open in a state of mild disarray, she spots one of her spare shirts. She considers balling it up and shoving it in her sweatshirt pocket to take back home, after all, it _is_ a cute shirt and it’s not like she’ll be spending much time here in the future. But something stops her. Something about it just screams to be left alone and she can’t bear to snatch it away from its place. 

Looking around, she realizes that she’s actually left a lot more things here than she remembered. The drawer of shirts, the bottle of perfume, the spare eyeliner and lip gloss, a book or two from her personal collection, a binder from sophomore Chemistry that she hasn’t needed to look at in ages, a forgotten wristband stuck behind his gym bag, loose sketches here and there that are still left on the table. The leftovers of a long term relationship, left untouched.

For whatever reason, she can’t bring herself to take any of it. She loves all of it, all of these things, but they feel like they belong here.

Maybe she likes the idea of him being reminded of her whenever he steps foot in the RV, or that he’ll find random pieces of her left around every once in a while. Maybe she likes that all the mementos of her might make him miss her just even a fraction of as much as she misses him. Maybe she likes that this place was once hers just as much as it was his.

He finally gets out of the bathroom as the record’s halfway through its second song.

Neither of them talk about their breakup. Neither of them talk about Beck’s momentary lapse of jealousy or Jade’s Slap posts. It’s better that way, really.

Sure, maybe they can’t look each other in the eye so she keeps her eyes fixed on the throw pillow in her lap, picking at the beads and loose threads. But it’s better that they don’t talk about it, believe her.

“You picked a good one,” he says, nodding towards the record player and breaking the silence.

“All of them are good,” she replies. They had bought them together a few summers ago, picking only the best options from each store.

“I know, but I always liked this one. It’s one of my favorites.”

It’s one of her favorites too. But she doesn’t know how to respond. So she doesn’t and sticks to the throw pillow, flipping it over and starting on the other side.

“That was one of the worst earthquakes in a while,” he says. He’s always been the one not afraid to speak up. Awkward silences never seem to affect him as much as they affect her.

“Yeah. I mean, you saw how much got fucked up,” she breathes out heavily, pausing slightly, “I’m just glad it didn’t hit us too badly.”

Luckily, Mrs. Valentine’s boss’s house is far enough from their neighborhoods that they barely got the aftershocks.

Beck nods wordlessly. She still isn’t fully looking at him, but she’s picking up on his movements out of the corner of her eye.

She moves to lie on her back, staring at the metal ceiling of the RV. Maybe it’s a sign that she’s a little too comfortable here, a little too comfortable in her ex-boyfriend’s place, but it’s too late at night for her to care. And after all, why shouldn’t she be comfortable here? She’s spent far too much time here for it to be thrown away in under 72 hours.

But luckily for her, Beck doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, they shift to a new topic. Something about course selections for next year and what they’re thinking of taking, what classes they don’t want to take, which classes they’re hoping Hollywood Arts picks up, what classes they think are getting cut.

“I think I’m going to take up a visual art class,” she says absent-mindedly, “Maybe acrylic painting. I dunno, it seems fun.”

“You should totally do it, you’re incredible at painting,” he says encouragingly, nudging her shoulder. By this point of the night, he’s joined her on the floor. They’re lying shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling in tandem. If she wanted to, she could stretch her hand out barely even two inches and take his hand in hers. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she raises her hand, resting it above her head. And there. The temptation, however mild, is gone.

The next hour passes by, and it barely feels like any time has gone by, but then again it normally does when they’re together.

And deep in her soul, she knows they should go live their separate lives and stop carrying on whatever habits they set up back when they were together, but something about it helps. His presence in her life is calming, and she’d like to think she has a good impact on his life too.

But before her brain can shame her any further, she sits up, stretching her arms out.

“I should probably go now.” She says, turning to look out the window, “If I stay any longer I’ll end up too tired to drive back.”

He stands up and extends a hand towards her to help her up, “Get home safe, Jade.” He says.

“I will,” she nods, “I’ll text you once I get back.”

That had always been the deal, and she’ll still hold up her end of it.

He pulls her in for a goodbye hug. It feels natural and in a way, it _is_ , after all, they had been together for two years before. Beck Oliver is not and had never been a stranger to Jade West.

And yes, it’s possible that she lingers for a little too long, but if he notices, he doesn’t say a word.

* * *

It’s been one of the longest nights in Jade’s life, so it doesn’t really matter if Beck comes over. After all the Mona Patterson crap, Cat had gone back to Tori’s, so why shouldn’t Jade have company too?

He shows up at her place, clad in a sweatshirt she hasn’t seen for a while, and parks his car at the end of the block. It’s still objectively early, but neither of them really know when he’ll end up leaving so it’s better safe than sorry.

She’s already on the roof and sees him making his way to her house. He looks up, meets her eye, and speeds up.

After he’s scaled the trellis and settles himself next to her, he sets a paper bag in the space between them.

She sends him a questioning look, taking comfort in the silence.

“I passed by Panera on the way here, got us pastries before they closed.” He explains, nodding towards the bag.

Well, that’s a new one.

“I see we’re changing the routine.” She smirks, but she still yanks the bag open and grabs a cookie.

“I’m hungry,” he shrugs as she passes the bag over to him, “sue me.”

“Yeah, you’ve had a weird night, haven’t you?” She heard about all of it from Robbie, who had called her that night and tried his best to fill her in between laughs. It was pretty funny she had to give it to him, “Well, I for one, _never_ want to see or hear about you kissing Trina Vega again in my _life_.”

Surprisingly there’s no malice or jealousy in her voice. She _has_ been known to change it up every now and then, really keeps people on their toes.

“That makes two of us,” he hums in agreement, shoving a danish into his mouth. “But enough about me, how’d your night go? Did Cat get to pay respects?”

She groans, falling back on her shoulders, “Don’t ask, trust me, it’ll only make you mad.”

“It sounded pretty fun to me,” he laughs, “how bad could it have gone?”

She turns to look him square in the face, “You really wanna know?” She asks, the midnight blue sky making her feel like one of those characters in a movie, like a camp counselor trying to scare her campers, or an old witch bending over her cauldron in pitch darkness.

He meets her eye with a challenging look that rivals her own, “I really wanna know.” He whispers, leaning in closer and raising a brow.

“I don’t think you know what you’re signing up for, buckaroo,” she retorts sarcastically, shoving his chest lightly.

“Well then, why don’t you tell me and we’ll find out?” He grins at her, shifting to lean back on his elbows, mirroring her own position.

“Okay, okay, fine!” She cedes, waving her hand around lazily, “But let me get a drink first and _then_ I’ll tell you.”

She leans over, reaching through her bedroom window and grabbing the two bottles of iced tea she’d left on her desk earlier, handing the other over to Beck.

They sit in silence for a moment, the only interruptions being the clatter of plastic bottles and the sound of their own breathing.

Once she feels enough time has passed, she turns back to him, “So, you ready to find out what happened with Cat and that dead lady?”

“I’m ready.”

So she tells him about her night. She tells him about all the bullshit they went through just to find a still-alive-old-woman who was justifiably upset with them, about the creepy guy at the gas station, she tells him everything. He laughs at the right moments, gives her confused looks that she can barely make out in the dead of night at the right times, makes dumb jokes just when the story calls for them. But Beck has always been the best person to tell stories to. Or at least, that’s what she’s always thought and he’s shown no reason for her to think otherwise.

He’s understandably confused by the end of the story, but she _did_ warn him so he can’t complain.

In exchange for her story, she makes him tell the story of his night, even though neither of them really want to talk about him kissing Trina, and she finds that he’s significantly better at telling the story than Robbie. Not that it’s that surprising though.

She sends him away (but if you ask anyone else, they’ll tell you he left on his own accord) just at the break of 2 am.

Beck refuses to leave until she goes back inside through the window, so she grabs his hand and works her way back into her room. He pulls off his sweatshirt and hands it to her from outside, just like he always had.

“It’s not cold out,” she says. Her skin is still slightly damp from earlier and the night air has left a slight chill throughout her, but she says it anyway.

“Yeah, but that’s never stopped us before,” he shrugs. “Besides, I know you like this one.”

She’s taken aback for a moment, but he’s right, she does. It’s gray with a simple geometric pattern stitched across the chest and something about it is just so _Beck._ She’s not sure why she’s surprised that he remembers, it hasn’t been that long since they broke up, and even then, two years can’t be erased in a month. It just doesn’t work that way. Not for them at least.

She takes it from him, but neither of them move for a moment. She doesn’t know what to do. Part of her just wants to lean out the window and kiss him just like she had all those times before, but the other part of her knows that their relationship just isn’t like that anymore.

So instead, she shifts over slightly, squeezing his hand in hers briefly, just enough to mean something but not too long that it’s awkward, “Get home safe, Beck.” She says, nodding.

“I will.” He nods, staring at her with a distant look on his face before making his way down the trellis. If she didn’t know any better, she’d even say he looked sad. But it’s not her place to worry anymore. So she doesn’t. Not out loud, at least.

* * *

Beck’s short film turns out great. He let her see it days ago when it was first finished, so she already knows how it ended up, but she still shows up to the showing because he’s Beck, and of course she’s going to support him. How could she not? Sure, maybe she questioned his casting choices at first (she still isn’t sure why she played the dumb one), but it doesn’t subtract from what she knows to be true, which is that Beck Oliver has always been more than what he lets on.

They’re barely five minutes into the showing and their friends have all rushed out of the room, all intent on helping Cat with whatever dilemma she’s gotten herself into with the wig and the bird, or whatever the fuck has just happened.

She looks over and sees Beck looking up towards Sinjin in the tech booth. He’s lost, it’s clear on his face and she doesn’t know what to do, if she _should_ do anything.

But even though she doesn’t know if she should, she does anyway. She gets up from her seat, walking over to where he’s stood.

She grabs his arm, pulling him over to the side slightly, ready to say something, but he turns to look at her in mild panic, speaking before she can.

“I don’t know what to do,” he tells her. He looks towards the door, shakes his head shortly, and turns back to her, “What do we do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she replies, her mind running a mile a minute.

“Do we go after them?”

“What would we even do? Let’s face it, neither of us are particularly great at de-escalation,” she remarks dryly. Her hand’s still on his arm and she can feel the Northridge girls from before glaring at it from their seats 20 feet away but she honestly can’t bring herself to care about it. If Beck ever decides to go out with someone new, they’re going to have to deal with them being friends and if they can’t, then it’s not her problem.

“But we can’t just start the movie up again, they all just saw Cat run out of here with a _bird on her head_.”

“Okay, uh,” she fumbles. “Then we can just keep people busy! I’m sure Sinjin can do some weird shit, right?”

She turns, looking towards Sinjin on the balcony, ready to yell something up at him.

“No, it’s fine,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “We have no idea how long they’ll be gone and even if they _do_ come back, the mood’s kinda ruined. Let’s just send everyone home and I can, I don’t know, maybe reschedule or something.”

She whips back around, brow furrowed in defiance, “No! I’m not letting you cancel this quickly. You and I both know that the booking for the auditorium is backed up for _weeks_ , if you cancel you won’t get another date for at _least_ a month. You worked hard on this, Beck, don’t just shove it to the side like that. I can’t let you do that to yourself.”

He gives her a guilty look and she knows that he’s going to cancel it no matter what she says. For the first time, she wishes he’d just suck it up and be selfish for once. To just put himself first, to stop giving things up because of others. Because she’s seen him lose too many things over the past five years and she hates to see him give up on himself because he values others that much.

It’s one of the things she’s never understood about him. People are nice to have in your life, she gets it, they’re important. But there’s no reason to give up yourself or to sacrifice things for the sake of them. But Beck has never had that issue. Then again, he’s always been more open to people than she ever was.

“Fine, do what you have to do,” she sighs, squeezing his arm in support.

And just like she knew he would, he makes his way to the front of the room, thanking everyone for coming and making a regretful announcement that she _really_ wishes he wasn’t making.

She stays with him as the others get their stuff and prepare to leave and afterwards she helps him fold up all the chairs and put them back in the maintenance closet.

Beck lets out a sigh as they start to leave the auditorium, looking back at the screen in melancholy.

“It’s a good movie, Beck.” She says, pulling her jacket on, “As your… friend, I can’t let tonight end without you knowing that. I know you didn’t get to show everyone, but it’s really good, I promise.”

She almost regretfully hesitates when calling them friends. But that’s what they are, aren’t they? It’s not like she can call them anything _but_ friends, because they’re not _dating._ But at the same time calling them friends feels like a lie. Like, they’ll never be _just_ friends.

“You know what I just realized?” He asks, letting the auditorium door close shut behind him, “You and I are the only people to see it in full. For now, at least.”

“We _have_ been known to have impeccable taste.” She replies simply.

“That we do,” he nods, nodding slightly, a grin breaking out on his face, “But it’s fine, I like it better that way.”

They make their way towards the doors of the school, ready to leave. She knows that the rest of their friends have finished dealing with their mini-crises, but neither she nor Beck have seen them in a while so it’s safe to assume their friends don’t need them.

She backs into the door, pushing it open. They walk out onto the sidewalk, neither of them willing to go to their cars just yet.

“Thank you.” He says. She gives him a confused look and he continues, “For helping me out with everything. I’m glad you stuck around.”

She nods, giving him a restrained smile that’s only a fraction of how she really feels.

“Of course I did,” she looks down at her shoes, “I’m sorry that you had to cancel. I really wish you hadn’t.”

He shakes his head, brushing it off as if it’s not that big a deal, “It wouldn’t have been right to keep going.”

He pulls out his phone and checks the time, “I have to go, my parents are asking when I’ll be back.” He sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

She nods wordlessly before reminding herself to _speak damn it_ , “Uh, see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” he nods in affirmation.

He steps towards her and pulls her into an embrace, “thank you, again. You mean a lot to me.”

Not ‘your help means a lot to me.’ Not ‘it means a lot that you helped.’

The arms wrapped around him hold him tighter as she pulls him closer. Her eyes start tearing up slightly, she’s not sure why they’ve appeared, but she blinks them back, not daring to let them shed.

She isn’t sure how long they’ve been standing there, but after what feels like a lifetime, he steps back.

He utters another goodbye and starts his way to his car. She should move. She should start getting to her car. But for some reason, she finds herself glued to the pavement.

* * *

They’re all desperate to leave the vet’s office seeing that the people in the clinic have made it clear that they don’t mind butting into their business.

Jade gives Cat a ride home because duh, she’s not a monster. Beck gives Tori a ride home because Tori quite literally can not drive.

Once she drops Cat off and starts the drive back home, Jade wonders if she gave herself away earlier, if everyone else in the damn waiting room could tell that she’s still in love with her ex-boyfriend. They didn’t seem to like her, which doesn’t bode well, but she just doesn’t care anymore. Sure, it stings that that one woman was so adamant about Beck being allowed to date Tori and that Beck couldn’t answer that girl’s question, but she wasn’t jealous anymore. And yeah, maybe that’s just what she’s telling herself so that she _gets over it already,_ but she once read somewhere that the energy you put out into the world gets returned to you, and maybe it’s worth a shot.

She shuts, well, more like _lightly slams,_ the door of her car and stands in her driveway for a moment, taking a moment for herself to compose herself.

But before she can even start to consider going inside, she sees a car pull up and stop in front of her driveway. She doesn’t even have to wonder who’s inside, she knows the in and out of that ‘67 GTO like she knows her own mind.

Beck rolls down the window and she can’t fight the smile that spreads across her face.

“You up for a late night drive?” He asks, reaching over to open the passenger side door.

“Do you even have to ask?” She raises a sardonic brow, smirking as she makes her way to his car.

There’s something calming, therapeutic even, about driving with Beck, going nowhere in particular, with nothing but the sounds of the streets and night surrounding them.

They start out doing just that, speeding through the parts of L.A. that call out to them, sitting in content silence. But this time, Jade decides, she doesn’t want silence, and tonight has proved pretty well for them, so why stop now?

One of these days she’ll work up the nerve to say all the things she wants to say, but today is not that day. So instead she tears her gaze from the window, takes a deep breath, willing the butterflies in her stomach to drown in stomach acid, and says something that she hopes to god is casual. 

“Beck, do you remember that spring break we spent in New York?”

And he says, “Yeah, yeah I do.” He says it fondly as if he’s dreaming, as if he’s in a better time.

“Where do you think we’d be going this year?”

_Where do you think we’d go if we hadn’t broken up?_

“I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully, if not a little unsure. “We always wanted to go to Europe though, remember?”  
  
“You think we would’ve been going to _Europe_ for spring break?” She asks incredulously, brows raised in amusement and confusion.

“Okay well, _no_ , I was just… Thinking out loud,” he replies, stumbling slightly and she can’t help but laugh slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she says dismissively, before moving on, “I think I would’ve wanted us to get around to that road trip this year…”

“Yeah? That would’ve been nice.” He says, trying to keep the longing out of his voice.

“Come on, you always had a list of places you wanted us to go,” she punches him playfully in the arm. “Don’t let me be the only one throwing out plans here.”

“Okay, let me think,” he humors her. “I always wanted to show you Montreal. You’ve been to Vancouver before, but you’ve never seen Quebec.”

“I hate Canada, you know that,” she shoots out sarcastically, not missing a beat.

“Even when I showed you around?” He asks jokingly.

But she decides to respond honestly anyway, “Well no, not then.”

“Then looks like I’ll just have to make sure I’m with you.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, “I miss you. A lot.” she says, but it comes out as, “I miss our trips,” instead.

Beck looks at her with a heavy gaze, as if he’s checking to see if she means what he thinks she does. Which of course she does, because he gets her, he has _always_ been the one who understands. Anyone can read between the lines but Beck has always been the one to hear the words in her silence. He’s clearly caught off guard by the change in tone, but if they’re being honest, they knew this moment was coming. It was written on the wall in ten foot letters every time they went to each other.

“Maybe next year?” He asks tentatively.

 _Maybe next year_ they’ll be back together again. _Maybe next year_ they’ll look back at this moment and sigh in relief that the past is behind them.  
  
She swallows the lump in her throat, nodding, “Maybe next year.”

Now is not the time for them to get back together, they both know this. So they don’t. They both know that it’ll come one day, that they both want to, but tonight is already too perfect and for whatever reason, they feel that pushing things further would just spoil it.

So instead, she lets herself get carried away in the rush of the night around them, streetlights speeding past, as the comfort of knowing they’re on the same page settles its way into her chest.

**Author's Note:**

> So you see, I was totally going to make my next work on here a chapter fic, like my other two. I even had it all planned out and three chapter fics literally fighting to get posted next, but then I wrote this and thought 'hey. this works...' So sorry if this feels off from me, it's a new style of writing, it's my first one shot, AND it's the first time I've written something within the events of the show's canon and that's all pretty new to me. So I figured that maybe I can start doing more things like this while still doing the longer AU fics that I'm literally obsessed with doing. Hope you liked it, pls comment or kudos if you enjoyed, it means a lot to me.
> 
> Also! If you wanna get in touch with me- borrowedthemoonlite.tumblr.com


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